


Road Work

by fearlessly



Category: Glee
Genre: And there are letters, Angst, Canon Compliant, Fandom Loves Puerto Rico, Fluff, Husbands, If you thought construction was bad..., Klaine, M/M, Road Trip, Road Work: Expect Delays, Romance, Sexy Letters, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearlessly/pseuds/fearlessly
Summary: Still in the honeymoon stage of their marriage, Kurt and Blaine embark on the journey that will take them from Lima to New York City and to the beginning of their fabulous married life together. But getting there isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kurt and Blaine learn what it really means to be works in progress.





	Road Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redheadgleek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadgleek/gifts).



> This was written for the Fandom Loves Puerto Rico charity auction. Redheadgleek, thank you for contributing, and for the prompt. I hope that I've adequately filled it, and that you enjoy it.
> 
> If you're interested in reading the prompt, I've placed it in the end notes, because spoilers.
> 
> I am forever indebted to my wonderful beta, [Aj4668](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aj4668). This story would not be coherent if it wasn't for her. Thank you.

The summer’s morning breeze flows through the Hudson-Hummel residence’s second-storey window, causing the delicate curtains to billow and sweep into the room. The gentle movement shifts Blaine’s attention from packing, and from the stack of letters he just found in Kurt’s desk. He hears a frustrated groan from down below; it causes him to quickly stuff them into his backpack and move towards the open window – a familiar window from which he has gazed out of many times before, when he and Kurt had holed themselves up in Kurt’s bedroom for movie nights, homework dates, and scheduled (or unscheduled) make-out sessions.

 

Blaine leans over the sill and looks down onto the driveway where his husband stands beside their rented Navigator, with his hands on his hips and furrowed brows. Blaine recognizes that expression. Kurt is frustrated, but also determined, and Blaine knows all too well that Kurt’s mood can go either way.

 

“Do you need some help, baby?” Blaine calls down.

 

“No, I don’t,” Kurt snaps, without even looking up. “I can do this myself, Blaine, I’m not a child.”

 

Blaine sighs softly to himself. Yes, Kurt is frustrated and determined, but despite Kurt’s mood, Blaine isn’t going to give up that easily. It’s time for a packing intervention.

 

In the short time they have been married, they haven’t had a single fight. Naturally, they have grown frustrated with each other, and have even bickered at times. Before that fateful day of their friends’ (and what was to become their own) wedding, Kurt and Blaine withstood a long, hard road. They have just been so happy to be back together and to have found one another again, that there has been no room for fights. They know what it feels like to be without the other, and there is no way either one of them will let anything come between them again.

 

Blaine knows, though, that fighting with Kurt is inevitable. They have both grown to be proud, and sometimes stubborn, men. So far, their summer has been stress free and without drama, and Blaine isn’t going to let a little bit of packing frustration get the best of them. He will fight with his husband at some point in their marriage – that’s for sure, they are only human after all (and the make-up sex is always fantastic), but not today.

 

“I know,” Blaine answers from his spot at the window. “You are fully capable of doing it yourself, but that doesn’t mean you have to. I want to help. I’ll be right down.”

 

Kurt finally looks up. When he sees Blaine peering out his bedroom window, Juliet Capulet style, his eyebrows smooth out, his shoulders relax, and his mouth forms into a smile.

 

“Thank you, honey. I think at the very least, a kiss from my husband would go a long way to helping me figure this out.”

 

The salaciousness of Kurt’s voice, paired with the promise of kissing him, puts Blaine into motion. No box and no roll of packing tape will keep him from bounding down the Hudson-Hummel staircase to give his husband what he oh-so-adorably asked for.

 

They have been packing for four days. The first day was spent at the Anderson residence gathering what little Blaine still had in storage there.

 

On days two and three, they disassembled and packed up Kurt and Blaine’s shared apartment. Precisely one day after their impromptu wedding, they decided that neither one of them wanted to spend their honeymoon months shacked up with their parents. And the apartment that Blaine had shared with Dave – well, Kurt’s friendliness towards Dave, and Kurt’s respect for Blaine having had another, albeit not ideal, relationship, was not enough to make Kurt want to live there. Blaine, who valued all his body parts, hadn’t even broached the subject of Kurt moving in. Really, Blaine hadn’t wanted to live there anymore either.

 

He and Kurt deserved a fresh start, so they decided to rent a quaint one-bedroom apartment on the west side of Lima. They were happy there, but the apartment had always been temporary. They were biding their time for Kurt to finish what he started with Rachel and the New Directions, and for Blaine to determine where he wanted to pursue his education. The plan had always been New York, for the both of them.

 

Now, on day four, all they have left is to pack up the Navigator with the stuff still stored in Kurt’s childhood bedroom. Kurt doesn’t trust the moving company with his most precious belongings, so their Navigator will be filled to the brim, and the roof rack put to good use.

 

“Special delivery for Kurt Anderson-Hummel,” Blaine says, as he makes his way through the front door and out onto the driveway.

 

“And not a moment too soon,” Kurt smiles, as he puts down the bungee cords and takes Blaine’s hand to draw him closer. Kurt’s thumb grazes along Blaine’s wedding band. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

 

Blaine notices that Kurt’s smile is sincere, and a little remorseful. “Baby, it’s nothing. We both have had a busy and stressful few days. Soon we will be on the road and on our way to our new home, where we will shack up like lovesick fools.” Blaine grins and leans forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck, pecking kisses.

 

“Oh, no, no, no, honey. I’ve been sweating all day and probably smell like dirty socks,” Kurt urges and tries to squirm away.

 

“I don’t care. I miss you,” Blaine says emphatically, and presses his lips closer to that spot on Kurt’s neck, making Kurt moan indignantly. “Besides, you said you wanted a kiss.”

 

“On the lips, honey,” Kurt squeaks and tilts Blaine’s face up.

 

“That can most certainly be arranged,” Blaine whispers. His gaze drops from Kurt’s eyes down to his lips momentarily, before his own lips press against them, kissing slowly but with vigor.

 

“Isn’t the honeymoon stage only supposed to last a few months?” Burt’s voice booms from the front doorway.

 

“Oh come on, honey,” Carole says, as she peeks over his shoulder, catching her step-son and son-in-law locked at the lips. “It’s Kurt and Blaine. Their honeymoon will never be over.”

           

“They haven’t been able to keep their hands and mouths off of each other since the day Blaine came home declaring his love for the most beautiful boy, who has the most perfect hair, the most gorgeous cerulean eyes, and the most angelic singing voice ever,” Pam laughs, unable to keep from teasing her son as she peers over Carole’s shoulder.

 

Blaine reluctantly breaks the kiss, and presses his forehead against Kurt’s. He closes his eyes and groans. “Mom!”

 

Blaine loves his mom, as well as Burt and Carole, but when the three of them get together, which is often now that he and Kurt are married, they are downright embarrassing.

 

“Would you three stop?” Kurt adds, when the three _adults_ won’t stop giggling.

 

“Sorry bud, but you are on my driveway. I have every right to be here.” Burt’s laughter is cut short by Carole’s gentle swat.  “Besides, there’s no time for eating each other’s faces; if you don’t get a move on, you’re going to be driving late into the night.”

 

“Oh, god, dad!” Kurt reprimands, his face flushing slightly.

 

“He’s right, baby,” Blaine chuckles, from his spot against Kurt’s chest. “As much as I want to love on you right here, right now, we should start our journey.”

 

The move is to take two days. They have planned to drive from Lima to their new apartment in Greenwich Village. At the end of the McKinley school year, Kurt and Blaine left their respective jobs as show choir coaches, and devoted themselves to making up for lost time. Having endured enough turmoil during Kurt’s freshman year at NYADA, and again after their wedding was called off last year; they were done with spending time apart.

 

This past summer, they enjoyed every moment they could with together. Amid spending time with family and friends, they took a couple of weekend trips out to NYC to find an apartment suitable to their needs. During one of those trips, Blaine’s father had come along and surprised the boys by putting a hefty down payment on an apartment for them. Apparently, Mr. Anderson had felt guilty that he missed his son’s marriage, since he had been overseas at the time. He told Blaine and Kurt it was a wedding gift, but Blaine knows it was partly to ease his father’s guilt.

 

Either way, Kurt and Blaine are grateful and happy to be able to live in the area they’ve always dreamed about.  The best thing about their new place, aside from the breathtaking view of the Hudson River, is that it’s close to both of their schools: NYADA for Kurt, and since he received his acceptance letter, NYU for Blaine.

 

Blaine is excited to finally be getting on with his life alongside the man he loves. He can’t wait to get a move on, so after he helps Kurt untangle the mess of bungee cords, he returns to Kurt’s room. He finishes wrapping up all the items labelled with green Post-its so that they’ll be ready for Burt to take to the humidity-controlled storage locker. He then packs up all the things with blue Post-its and takes them down to be packed up in the Navigator.

 

After Kurt finishes securing the items to the roof rack, they have a quick brunch with their parents, say tearful goodbyes with promises to call when they reach their destination, and get into the Navigator. As they make their way out of the driveway, the last thing Blaine sees in his side-view mirror is their parents standing side by side, waving at them.

 

“We’re really doing it this time,” Blaine's voice is filled with wonderment. “We’re venturing out into the world … to the city of our dreams together. Married. We’re married, Kurt!”

 

Blaine beams when Kurt laughs. Six months into it, Blaine still can’t believe that they have tied the knot, and he knows that, at times, Kurt can’t believe it either. It isn’t that they have doubts – not anymore. It is just that, for a time, their future together was unsure, and even non-existent. Kurt told him there were days when he thought he’d spend his whole life regretting calling off their wedding. And Blaine was scared he’d end up in a relationship with no real chemistry, without true love.

 

Somehow, they found their way back to each other, and jumped in head first. There are no regrets, just anticipation, excitement, and a determination to make their dreams come true. They aren’t perfect. They both admit to being works in progress – and even incorporated it into their vows – but they know they will work at it together.

           

“We are, honey,” Kurt affirms. “I’m so excited to start this chapter of our lives. Together. With you. Married.”

 

Blaine looks at him adoringly, and slides his hand onto Kurt’s thigh. “I can’t wait. Step on it.”

 

Kurt merges onto Interstate 80, and steps on the gas with a grin.

 

+

 

 _“_ _Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel_ _like you’re less than fuckin' perfect_ ,” Kurt sings at the top of his lungs, while breezing down the highway near the Ohio – Pennsylvania state line.

 

Blaine, who has his window rolled down so that his hand can ride the wind, adds a harmonious, _“Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing_ _, you're fuckin' perfect to me.”_

 

Kurt laughs, and gives Blaine a quick side glance. “That never gets old, does it?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Blaine agrees. “Being in a Navigator, singing old Pink songs with you, it brings back memories. Good memories.”

 

“We did have fun in my old Nav, didn’t we?”

 

Blaine turns to Kurt with a blush on his face. “That’s what I mean. Good memories, Kurt. Oh! And speaking of good memories, I found something in your desk when I was packing.”

 

“Please tell me it’s my missing copy of October 1996 Vogue. You know the one with Madonna on the cover, and the Evita interview!”

 

Blaine pauses. “You still haven’t found that?”

 

“No, and I’m still losing sleep over it. It’s collector!”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t find your missing copy of Vogue. But I did find something just as valuable.”

 

“Do tell! What did you find that could be as priceless as that?”

 

“I found some letters.” Blaine reveals casually.

 

Kurt grins softly. “The letters you wrote to me when I first moved to New York? The naughty ones?”

 

Blaine laughs. “Yes, the naughty ones. I had no idea you still have them.”

 

“Oh, I am never saying goodbye to those, honey. Actually, the reason they were in my desk is because I had been reading them… recently.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Well, yes. I missed you. After… our broken engagement, when I realized that I had made a big mistake, I dug out the letters and started reading them again. They had been stored away for so long, but I found them in the back of my closet. Reading them made me feel closer to you.”

 

“How did they end up in Lima?”

 

“I brought them with me. When I came to find you, I couldn’t leave them behind. They had become sort of like a security blanket,” Kurt confesses, ducking his head. “I know it’s stupid.”

 

“It’s not stupid, Kurt. It’s a little sad, a little romantic … and really hot.” Blaine says, with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“The things you wrote were really hot,” Kurt agrees, blushing.

 

“Like these things?” Blaine asks teasingly, as he dips his hand into his backpack and takes out a letter.

 

“Oh my god, you brought them? I put a green Post-it on them, Blaine, not blue.”

 

“Yes. Yes, I did. How could you even think to put these treasures in storage...”

 

“Humidity-controlled storage,” Kurt interrupts.

 

 “Storage is storage, Kurt. Besides, I figured they’d be perfect for me to read to you, you know, to pass the time.”

 

“You are evil.”

 

“But you love me.”

 

“Yes I do. Very much.”  Kurt admits.

 

“And I love you.” Blaine says with a grin on his face, preparing to read aloud. “Let me remind you just how much…

 

_“Dear Kurt;_

 

_“Remember when we were in the McKinley courtyard, and I convinced you to go to New York City? I wanted to let you know that I still stand by my decision to give you that push when you were stuck – even though it was a push that would physically take you away from me. It is one of the easiest things I’ve done because it is the best thing for you. I am so happy that you are following your dreams, baby._

 

_“And I know I’ll be there at the end of the school year, but god, Kurt, I miss you so much. In a way, pushing you to move away is also one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I miss everything about you – your smile, the one that is just for me; your angelic and utterly exuberant laugh; buying you coffee every Saturday morning at the Lima Bean; and being excited to see what outfit you were going to show up in at school every morning. One of the things I miss the most, actually, is carefully rifling through all those layers, and finding that pale, soft expanse of skin that no one but me gets to see. I miss undressing you slowly (sometimes frantically) to get to the warmth of your body, so that I can kiss every inch, and lick my way up the column of your throat. God, Kurt your throat … it’s so enticing, structured and strong, yet delicate and vulnerable. It’s one of the many places on your body that can keep my attention for hours. Sometimes I can’t decide what to attack first … your throat, the perfect nipples upon your perfect chest, your lovely hipbones and the groove between them and your groin, or your strong, powerful thighs…_

 

_“Kurt, I miss you so much. I miss kissing you, tasting you, and making love with you … and I definitely miss the way you fuck me. I daydream about the times when you’d push me down onto the bed and have your way with me … with your sinful mouth on my cock, and your fingers teasing into my hole, opening me up, preparing me for your gorgeously big…”_

 

“Blaine Anderson-Hummel, if you don’t want me to crash this car, you better stop right now!” Kurt groans and grips the steering wheel a little tighter, willing his cock to just behave.

 

It is a good thing they are nearing Youngstown, Ohio where they plan to stop for a snack and restroom break, before heading into Pennsylvania.

 

Once Kurt pulls up to the gas pump and stops the car, Blaine boldly kisses him smack on the mouth, unbuckles his seatbelt, swiftly exits the Navigator, and laughs all the way into the gas station to get some snacks.

 

Kurt can’t believe the adorable audacity of his husband. Kurt has read those letters many times, especially recently, but there is just something about hearing Blaine’s voice recite the words that makes Kurt’s desire skyrocket. Kurt takes some breaths before getting out of the car, so that he doesn’t cause a scene with the unruly bulge in his pants. Once out, he distracts himself with gassing up the Navigator, while Blaine pays inside. When the car is fueled, they use the restroom, get the snacks they want, and get back on the road.

 

After their break, the time seems to fly by for them. Kurt forbids Blaine to read any more letters, so they keep busy by singing their favourite songs to each other, just like the old days. First, Kurt requests the _Wicked_ cast album, then they move on to the _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack (where Blaine gets emotional at hearing _Come What May_ , remembering how Kurt sang it to him in private on their wedding night), and they are now finishing up one of their absolute favourites: Katy Perry’s _, Teenage Dream: The Complete Confection_.

 

It is then that disaster hits.  As they are sharing beef jerky, and Blaine is rapping to Missy Elliott’s part in _Last Friday Night_ , they hear a loud thump from the roof of the Navigator. Kurt slams on the breaks when he sees a mosaic of colour flying out behind the vehicle in his rear-view mirror. Since he was the one to pack the top of the car, he knows immediately what they have lost. “Oh shit, Blaine.”

 

“What happened?” Blaine asks, trying his best to turn around and look through the back window.

 

“Something flew off the roof,” Kurt screeches as he pulls over, praying silently that passing cars won’t completely ruin Blaine’s treasures. God, why didn’t he put them in the back seat instead of on the roof rack? He turns on his hazard lights, unbuckles, and carefully gets out of the car.

 

“What came loose, Kurt?” Blaine asks, unbuckling and following Kurt out.

 

Once Blaine comes around the car and realizes what is strewn all over the highway, his body freezes. He takes a deep breath, then, seemingly without thinking, runs out onto the highway, dodging traffic. He crouches down in a panic, trying to rescue his most prized possessions.

 

As Blaine is desperately collecting his comic books, Kurt hears a shrill honk from a passing truck. Panic surges through his veins. “Blaine, stop. You’re going to get run over! Blaine!”

 

+

 

Blaine knows he’s in danger, but those comics mean so much to him. Kurt just doesn’t understand, because if he did, he never would have haphazardly put them on the roof rack to begin with. An angry sensation fills Blaine’s stomach. He knows he shouldn’t overreact, but he is already in such panic to save his comics, and his emotions are revved up so much that it can’t be stopped.

 

“Blaine!”

 

Blaine tries to ignore Kurt’s screams and continues to pick up his comics. He is able to retrieve all of them, except for two. They have landed in the middle of the road, and Blaine can tell that they have been run over. He has the sense to wait until there is no immediate traffic, and runs out to fetch them, while Kurt screams at him from the side of the highway.

 

“Oh my god, Blaine, they’re just stupid comic books!”

 

The anger Blaine has been trying to keep controlled unfurls like a starving mother bear waking up from a long hibernation. “Stupid comic books?” he yells.

 

Kurt huffs and throws his hands up in the air, making it clear that he thinks Blaine is being absolutely ridiculous.

 

Blaine finally makes it back to the shoulder unscathed, clutching at his mostly intact, but somewhat ruined, comic collection. “These stupid comic books kept me partially sane after you abandoned me in the cold New York rain,” Blaine screams.

 

He sees Kurt’s eyes flicker, and his throat swallow down a lump, but Blaine is too angry to care about Kurt’s feelings in the moment, whether it is anger, or guilt, or confusion – or maybe all three. He clutches his comics tighter and trudges back to the Navigator.

 

Kurt follows quickly. “Blaine, it doesn’t matter what fell off the roof rack. Nothing is worth you almost getting killed over. Honestly, what were you thinking? They’re just…”

 

“Stop.” Blaine’s eyes are the darkest green, and his mouth has turned into an incredulous frown. “Do not finish that sentence, Kurt. If you knew one iota of what these comics mean to me, you would not have put them on the roof rack.”

 

“I can’t believe…”

 

“I’m not done,” Blaine yells. “Do not lecture me about what I just did to save them, because it’s your fault that this has happened at all.”

 

“My fault?” Kurt gives Blaine a look that could shatter glass. “Yes, Blaine, I purposely sabotaged your precious, little boy comic collection.”

 

“Kurt!”

 

“Blaine!” Kurt growls in frustration. “This is pointless.” He stomps back to the driver’s side, gets in, and slams the door, leaving Blaine to place his comics safely into the back seat, and secure everything else that is still on the roof.

 

Ten minutes later, Blaine gets into the passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt. He makes no motion to look in Kurt’s direction; he simply crosses his arms, huffs to himself, and stares forward through the windshield.

 

“So you’re just going to ignore me now?” Kurt asks.

 

“I’m too angry to look at you, let alone talk to you right now, Kurt. Just drive.”

 

+

 

Kurt wants to scream, but he knows that what he should do is apologize. He doesn’t understand Blaine’s infatuation with his comics, but it is his fault entirely that they weren’t secured properly. Plus, he should have never said those things to Blaine. In the moment, he was so scared that Blaine would get hit by oncoming traffic.

 

One sideways glance at his husband makes him bite his lip, though. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t apologize. Blaine’s body language and darkened gaze make it clear that he needs time and space to calm down before Kurt tries to have a discussion with him.

 

Maybe the Kurt from one year ago would have kept on prodding. His stubbornness and his insecurities would have driven him to pick a fight. He’s trying to not be that Kurt anymore – not with Blaine. So he decides to take the high road for now and quietly let his husband stew in the seat beside him. Kurt puts on his seatbelt, pulls back out onto the road, and heads towards Pennsylvania.

 

The drive is quiet. The air in the Navigator is thick, but sometime after they cross the state line, Blaine’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “I’m really going to miss Sam.”

 

What does Sam have to do with anything, Kurt wants to ask. And why are you thinking about Sam when you should be thinking about how to make amends with your husband? But Kurt doesn’t say those things. Instead, he takes a breath to collect his emotions and says, “I know, honey.”

 

Blaine takes an audible breath and fiddles with the hem of his shorts before finally looking up at Kurt. “Can we talk?”

 

Kurt nods and pulls into the next rest stop, which is thankfully only three minutes away. He doesn’t want to be driving while they have this conversation; he wants to give Blaine his undivided attention. The rest area is large and protected from the highway by tall trees. The lawn space is ample and hosts about a dozen wooden picnic tables. Kurt and Blaine settle at an empty table in a more secluded part of the lawn, beneath a shady tree.

 

“I’m sorry.” Kurt starts. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was scared, and if I’m being honest, I felt guilty that I didn’t tie down the comics better, although it wasn’t on purpose, honey.”

 

“I know. I know that.” Blaine laments and reaches across, pulling both of Kurt’s hands into his grasp. “I just… they mean so much to me, Kurt. I know you don’t understand, but … will you let me explain?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“After I got kicked out of NYADA, and realized that I had to return home to Ohio, I was in a dark place, Kurt. You know that, we talked about it.”

 

Kurt nods. He does know. He remembers that when they got back together - on the very same day that he ran to Blaine’s apartment to profess his love, they talked. Granted, it was after they had fallen into bed together, but that is just a small detail. They stayed up to the wee hours of the morning, confessing all their missteps and past mistakes, and promising to communicate better, to work together, and most importantly, that they still and always would love each other. Blaine explained to him the journey that had led him to be kicked out of NYADA, and what a dark time it had been. Apparently, there is a detail that Blaine had left out.

 

“Well, as you know, becoming the coach of the Warblers, as well as my weekly therapy sessions, were integral parts of my recovery. But before then…” Blaine hesitates, looking up into Kurt’s eyes.

 

Kurt squeezes his hands. “Go on, honey.”

 

“Before then, when I was staying at my parents’, and didn’t yet have a job … I mean, I couldn’t, I could barely get out of bed. I couldn’t function, let alone work…” Blaine pauses and takes a calming breath. “The thing that kept me going, even if it was just a little bit, was the times Sam would come over and sit with me. I wasn’t really that talkative. I didn’t want company, to be honest, but Sam convinced my mother to let him in, and he’d sit with me and tell me about his day. He wouldn’t even wait for me to respond. He didn’t ask me questions … well, he did at first, but I was really out of it, so he stopped trying. But he never stopped coming over. It became a daily occurrence, and by the end of it I looked forward to his visits. Anyway, he would sit and talk to me, and do his ridiculous impressions, and tell me about the hilarious things that Coach Beiste would get up to.

 

“What really made me come out of the dark cloud I was under … what made me physically sit up and be in the moment, the catalyst to making me eventually seek help, was when he would read comic books to me. It was something that we had bonded over when we were in high school. I came to the realization that some things don’t change, and don’t have to change. I became cognizant of the fact that I am able - and allowed - to have joy in my life; it made me wake up. I would get lost in Sam’s voice as he recounted the stories about the heroes and villains of those alternate universes; but at the same time, I wasn’t lost. It was like I was found. Sam found me, and because of that, I was able to take the time to find myself … and to eventually find you again.”

 

Blaine stops, as if he’s become suddenly aware that he is rambling. He stutters out a breath and looks up from where his gaze has been focused - on their joined hands. He notices unshed tears in Kurt’s eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry, Blaine,” Kurt professes.

 

“No, Kurt, we have talked about our breakup. We have both apologized, and we have…”

 

“No, I mean I’m sorry about the comics.” Kurt cuts him off. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know about them, and that I was so careless, and what I said to you, god, Blaine, I’m so sorry, honey.”

 

“You didn’t know. I should have told you.” Blaine says, shaking his head.

 

“Yes, you should have, but I could have asked, too. You are my husband. I should know these things.”

 

“Well, now you do.”

 

Kurt stands up and walks around the picnic table, never releasing his hold on Blaine’s hands. He sits down beside him and looks at him earnestly. “Thank you for telling me. When we get settled in New York, I’m going to replace your ruined comics, and I’m going to call Sam to thank him.”

 

“That would be a very sweet gesture, but Sam doesn’t need any thanks for taking care of me. He’s my friend, and I would do the same for him.”

 

Kurt goes quiet for a moment. When he looks up, a couple of tears slide down his cheeks.

 

“What’s the matter?” Blaine asks.

 

“Sam is a good friend to you.”

 

“He is,” Blaine agrees and squeezes Kurt’s hand, knowing that there’s something else he wants to say.

 

“I’ve always been jealous of your friendship,” Kurt blurts out.

 

Blaine presses his lips together, and whispers softly, “I know.”

 

“It’s not really the friendship that I’m jealous of – I mean, I like Sam. It’s more that I’m envious of how easy your relationship is with him. You guys just get each other. You don’t have to work at being friends, you know?”

 

“You have friends like that, too,” Blaine encourages.

 

Kurt laughs bitterly. “I love Rachel, but we have to work hard at our friendship.”

 

“I don’t mean Rachel,” Blaine says. “You and Mercedes, you just get each other. You and Elliott, you two don’t have to work at being there for one another.”

 

When Kurt remains silent, Blaine moves closer to him and gathers him in his arms. “I may not have to work at being friends with Sam, but I also don’t have to work at being in love with you. I love Sam. He’s my best friend, and he balances me out – but you, Kurt, you're my anchor, my everything. We may argue and fight, and have to work at the logistics of living together, but the being in love with you part … that is the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I am in this with you forever, because it’s exactly where I belong, and where I want to be.”

 

“I’m a selfish, jealous idiot.”

 

“You have never been, and you never will be, an idiot.”

 

“I am when I don’t tie down your belongings properly.”

 

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Blaine says and kisses him on the lips. “But you’re forgiven.”

 

Kurt sighs in relief and brings Blaine’s hand up to his mouth to peck kisses along his knuckles. “Let’s get back on the road, shall we? We need to find some lunch. And the sooner we get to New York, the sooner I can call Sam.”

 

With a smile, Blaine stands up and tugs his husband up and towards the Navigator.

 

+

 

Several hours later they are approaching Clearfield, Pennsylvania. The sun has just set, making them travel in darker conditions than they originally planned. Their impromptu mishap with the comics and their fight has put them behind schedule. They aren’t worried though; they are happily singing along to the _Cats_ Soundtrack.

 

When _The Jellicle Ball_ ends, Blaine turns the volume down and mischievously takes out another letter.

 

“Oh god, no please.” Kurt begs.

 

“I thought you liked my letters,” Blaine teases.

 

“Yes, but not while I’m driving and can’t participate. Thank god, this isn’t a stick shift.”

 

Blaine snorts out his laughter. When he gets hold of himself, he turns towards Kurt and begins to read…

 

_“Dear Kurt;_

 

_“You are missing Britney 2.0 week. As much as you love Britney, I know that you would rather be right where you are - in New York City, because the Glee Club is a mess. You would roll your eyes at everyone. Brittany has gone off the deep end – she tried to shave off her hair, Kurt; and she even beat the crap out of JBI, which no one is really sad about - but it’s Brittany! The new guy, Jake, leers at anything that moves, and Mr. Schue is being extra annoying._

 

_“I miss you so much, Kurt. You are my anchor. You are the one who always keeps me sane among the madness. It’s so weird to be at McKinley without you. But the worst are the evenings and weekends. I miss Friday night dinners and your Saturday morning breakfasts. It feels lonely doing even mundane things, like homework, without you, and going to the Lima Bean on the weekends is pretty depressing if I’m being honest._

 

_“But my bed, Kurt – I miss you in my bed so much. And singing Britney songs this week just makes me think of sex, which doesn’t help at all. There are times I just wish you were here so that I can wrap you up into my arms and nuzzle into your neck. I even miss when you reprimand me for attempting to leave a hickey on that flawless skin of yours. Sometimes I would do it anyway, and you’d have to wear an ascot all week. It makes me hot knowing that you were wearing them because of me, because of what we had done the night before, because of how I loved you. The times when you wouldn’t let me mark up your neck I’d find other places, remember? I miss that so much - leaving little bruises on your…”_

 

Kurt swipes the letter out of Blaine’s hands. “No more.”

 

Blaine grins. “Kurt, are you blushing?”

 

“You would be blushing, too, if I read porn to you.”

 

Blaine laughs. “Kurt, it’s not porn. Oh god, I love you.”

 

Kurt grins softly. “I love you too, honey. But I take that back. You wouldn’t blush, because you have no shame, Blaine Warbler, none.”

 

Blaine grasps Kurt’s free hand and brings it up to his mouth to kiss it. “You’re right. I have no shame for you. I will love you and lust after you forever and never be ashamed of it.”

 

“Oh, you’re such a romantic,” Kurt teases. “But in all seriousness, I love when you read to me. And I love reminiscing about our younger days. Right now, though, we need to figure out where we’re going.”

 

Blaine looks up and notices that they are entering the small town of Clearfield.

 

“Could you please program the address to the B&B into the GPS?” Kurt asks. “You printed out the confirmation, right?”

 

Blaine’s pupils grow big at Kurt’s words. When Kurt flashes him a questioning raise of his brows, Blaine turns his head and stares pointedly out the window. _Oh shit. Fuck. Shit, shit, shit._

 

“Blaine?”

 

“Umm…”

 

“You forgot the confirmation? Its ok, you can just call them. We should have reception right?”

 

“No. It’s not that.”

 

“What’s wr… oh!” Kurt glances over at his husband. “Blaine, you forgot to make the reservation didn’t you?”

 

“I’m sorry!” Blaine whines.

 

Blaine watches Kurt clamp his mouth shut and take a breath. He is willing himself not to get riled up, Blaine knows. Blaine is glad for it, since Kurt is still driving. Blaine thinks about it rationally. There is still plenty of time to call the B&B, and if they don’t have rooms, there is an array of other suitable motels in the area.

 

“Can you call them?” Kurt breaths out.

 

“I’m already on it,” Blaine says nervously while pressing the phone to his ear.

 

As time passes by, and as Blaine makes phone call after phone call, the air in the Navigator becomes increasingly thicker. Blaine, who is doing his best to remain polite to the people he is speaking with, notices that Kurt is doing all he can to stay calm and focused on the road. He resolutely does not look directly in Kurt’s direction. He knows without a doubt that Kurt is angry, and he just doesn’t want to do anything else that might make him explode.

 

“Hello. My husband and I are looking for a room for the night… oh … yes, I know there’s a baseball tournament in town, but I was hoping… okay… yes, I tried there. Isn’t there just one room? We just need one bed... ahh… yes, okay, I understand. Thank you anyway.”

 

“Blaine, please tell me that isn’t the last place on the list.” Kurt says coldly.

 

“It isn’t.” Blaine responds, quickly. “There is one more. Well, one more that lives up to your standards anyway.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Nothing, Kurt. It’s just that there aren’t a lot of options in this small town. And less that are four-star.”

 

Kurt bites his lip and slows down his speed as they approach Clearfield’s town center.

 

Blaine proceeds to make a few other calls, essentially wiping out the list of respectable motels; he hangs up with a sigh. “I think we should keep driving to the next town. Let me just bring up a map.”

 

“Blaine, it’s late…”

 

“I’ll drive,” Blaine interrupts. “You can sleep in the passenger seat and I’ll drive in the dark. You know I’ve done this highway before. Remember I used to visit you on the weekends when the distance became too much…”

 

“No Blaine. I’m not going to put us at risk on a dark highway when we should be tucked away at our cozy and charming B&B. I did hours of research on it, Blaine!”

 

“Kurt, there is no room there, or anywhere.”

 

“Because you didn’t make a reservation like I asked you to!” Kurt yells.

 

“I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know that the Pennsylvania Little League is having its World Series this weekend?”

 

“Knowing or not would have been irrelevant if you had just made a reservation. Blaine, it was one thing. A few clicks of the mouse and we would’ve had a room. Now we are stuck in the middle of nowhere without shelter,” Kurt screeches.

 

“Baby, please calm down. You’re driving.” Blaine tries to placate.

 

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Blaine.” Kurt huffs and pulls into the nearest parking lot. “I just asked for you to do one thing.”

 

“No, Kurt, it wasn’t just one thing. It was a million things. I had to pack up three places, get the finances of the New York apartment all sorted, spend time with my mom because apparently she’s having a mid-life crisis, plus a million other mundane errands. I’m only human, Kurt.”

 

Kurt clutches the steering wheel. Blaine knows he is trying to not blow a fuse, but he really doesn’t care at the moment, because he is on the verge of blowing one himself.

 

“I know. I just… you know how I get when plans are re-routed,” Kurt says.

 

“Oh, I know Kurt. You will never let me forget.” Blaine unclasps his seatbelt, gets out of the car, and slams the door a little more dramatically than what is necessary.

 

+

 

“Blaine!” Kurt yells after him, but it’s no use. Blaine is already trekking inside the building, which Kurt has just noticed, is a motel. At least, he assumes it is a motel, because the neon sign has the O and the E burned out. While looking at the sign, Kurt sees that the vacancy sign is lighted up. By the exterior appearance, it doesn’t look like more than a two-star; the sign doesn’t even display a name – just M  T  L, but at this point, Kurt will just have to lower his standards and deal with it. Besides, he has some Lysol wipes in the back. If he has to wipe down all the surfaces, so be it.

 

When Blaine returns, Kurt notices that he seems much calmer than he was when he stormed off. In Blaine’s hand is a key, which is attached to a tan-coloured, diamond-shaped, plastic keychain. “Room 106 belongs to the Anderson-Hummels for the night,” Blaine presents proudly.

 

Kurt drives the Navigator around the back of the building, and luckily finds parking right outside their suite. He and Blaine grab their overnight bags and enter the room.

 

The moment Kurt turns the lights on; he knows he won’t be able to control his anger. He stands there and can only gape at the state of their room. No amount of Lysol will be able to bring this up to any human standards. “Blaine! I can’t stay here.”

 

“It’s not that bad,” Blaine says softly, stupidly.

 

“It’s not bad?” Kurt yells. “Of course you would think that. What happened to your standards, Blaine? Oh, never mind, you never had any; I mean, you did bring bed bugs into our loft, for god’s sake!”

 

“What the hell, Kurt!” Blaine looks at him incredulously and points aggressively in his direction. “That was really uncalled for.”

 

“This is disgusting.” Kurt says, ignoring Blaine’s comment.  

 

Kurt continues to look at the room with disgust on his face. He notices the filthy carpet and the long brown stains along the lime green, paint-chipped walls. “The carpet is stained, there’s god knows what on the walls, the comforter is ripped and filthy, it smells like feet and cigarette smoke, and I don’t even want to go into the bathroom.”

 

“I would suggest we ask for a different room, but I get the feeling nothing will please the diva!” Blaine spews.

 

“You’re right, Blaine. I’m not staying in any room in this gross motel. You can sleep here if you want, but this diva will be in the Nav.” Kurt clutches his overnight bag, and stomps back out toward the vehicle.

 

+

 

Blaine closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs deeply; so much for the honeymoon stage of their marriage. Is this what “for better or for worse” refers to? He screwed up, Blaine knows that. And now that he is taking a real look at the place, he understands where Kurt is coming from. He wouldn’t allow Kurt (or himself) to sleep here either. But Kurt is being a dramatic diva, and yelling and stomping like a child isn’t going to make the room any cleaner, or get them any sleep.

 

They haven’t been reunited for long, less than a year; and until today, they hadn’t had a single fight. A small amount of bickering or disagreeing has been normal, but it was always forgotten within minutes when they remembered that they had almost lost each other for good not long ago.

 

But this? Blaine doesn’t know what the hell this is, but it is unsettling. Blaine thinks about their past and it dawns on him how every time one, or both, of them, leaves the safety net of Ohio, all hell breaks loose. Why can’t they make things work between them when circumstances are less than ideal? Isn’t that what married life is all about? Working together through the bad times? Why does the situation have to be perfect for them to just get along? Are they doomed?

 

Blaine sits on the edge of the small desk in the corner. It is the only place he will allow himself to touch. Truly, he wants to leave this room and join his husband in the Nav, but he knows that Kurt needs space and time to cool off.

 

+

 

After Kurt finishes hastily moving boxes from the back seat to the front seats of the Navigator and finds himself a blanket and a pillow, he leans back into the bench seat and wills the tears back. He won’t cry, damn it. It’s not like their fight is the end of the world, or even their marriage – far from it. There is no way in hell Kurt will let something so insignificant as a dirty motel room put them back to where they were last year. They have finally found each other for good – they are married – this is just a stupid blip in their long and fabulous life together.

 

So why is he so upset? Why is he so mad at Blaine? Why is he so hurt?

 

“Because I’m a control freak.” Kurt says aloud.

 

The knock on the window startles him. He doesn’t know the neighbourhood, but judging from the lodgings, he knows this isn’t Beverly Hills. That would be a fitting ending to this frustrating trip, he thinks – getting offed by a serial killer. Luckily, the person knocking is not a serial killer; it is his husband. Kurt sighs and unlocks the doors.

 

Blaine slides swiftly into the back seat beside Kurt. The two men look at each other. What they see in one another’s eyes, is not anger, but remorse. It is a good start. “Can I go first?” Blaine asks.

 

“I have a lot to say,” Kurt answers, “but yes honey, you can go first.”

 

The term of endearment seems to put Blaine at ease, because his shoulders relax and he turns fully towards Kurt, grasping his hand. His fingertip traces along the rim of Kurt’s wedding band. “You asked me to make a reservation, and despite how busy I was, I should have either gotten it done or asked for your help. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t make your peace of mind and comfort a priority.”

 

“Blaine…”

 

“No, let me finish. Please.”

 

At Kurt’s affirmation, Blaine continues, “You have to know, Kurt, you are my priority - all of you, all your idiosyncrasies and your character flaws. Yes, you do have flaws, Kurt, and I’m not scared to say that to you because I have them, too. The beautiful thing about our relationship is that we accept and love each other despite, and because of, those flaws. Your flaws are completely obliterated by all the wonderful, perfect, and lovely things that make you, you.”

 

Kurt takes in a sharp breath and blurts out, “You’ve done it again. You’ve made me forget about any motel, or fight, or anything but those honey-coloured eyes, that beautiful tone in your voice, and your sweet, vulnerable heart that I fall in love with over and over again.”

 

“Kurt…”

 

“Can I say my peace now?”

 

“Not yet,” Blaine responds with a soft smile. “I need to tell you that I wouldn’t have you any other way. As quick as you are to lose your cool, you easily forgive as well. The passion you use to tell me that I’ve fucked up is the same one you use to tell me that I’m the love of your life. That icy blue stare you give me to let me know that you are displeased with something I have, or haven’t, done, comes from the same gorgeous cerulean eyes that draw me from whatever the hell I’m doing into your embrace, and into our bed.”

 

“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, his voice shaky, his eyes watery.

 

“I love you, and I accept you, all of you, wholeheartedly. I vowed this to you, and I will vow it again if you need me to. Because I know you’re feeling guilty about blowing up at me.”

 

Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s, essentially shutting him up. Kurt takes a moment to process everything Blaine just said to him. When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead resting against Blaine’s. “It’s my turn to talk.”

 

“Okay. I’m listening, baby.”

 

“You’re right. I do feel guilty for yelling at you. I’m sorry, honey. I think partly, it’s because being in control is sort of my safe place. So many things have happened in my life that I was unable to control – losing my mom and my brother, being bullied, my dad’s heart attack and cancer, and even our first break up. So when things get out of my control, even insignificant things like hotel reservations, I don’t feel safe and I lash out.”

 

Kurt pauses when he feels Blaine’s hand caress the side of his neck affectionately. He scoots along the leather seat, closer to his husband, until their thighs are pressed together.

 

“If the reservation was so important to me,” Kurt continues, “I should have either done it myself or communicated to you that it was really important to me. The other thing that’s contributing to my insecurity is that I’m scared. The last two times you left Ohio to come to New York to be with me, we ended up splitting up. So, I guess that is hanging over my head. I don’t want to lose you, Blaine… I can’t. I know that we’ve had conversations, and that we vowed forever to each other… I just … I need this to be for good, Blaine.”

 

“It is for good. It is for forever. I promised you, Kurt.”

 

Kurt slots his fingers with Blaine’s, and grasps his hand tighter. “Remember when you proposed to me?”

 

“I will never ever forget that day.”

 

“You said that your heart knew something that your mind didn’t yet.”

 

Blaine nods.

 

“I think I’m feeling that way right now. My heart knows that this is forever. My heart knows that you are my one and only, and that we are going to make it this time. My heart knows that we can withstand anything as long as we do it together. But I guess my mind … just needs to catch up.”

 

“Oh baby,” Blaine murmurs and presses soft kisses to Kurt’s lips. “It’s ok that your brain needs to catch up. It will eventually. In the meantime, I’m here to remind it that we are a work in progress – but we are irrevocably in love, and nothing will change that. Not ever, baby.”

 

“I love you, Blaine.”

 

Blaine responds to Kurt’s declaration with a not-so-chaste kiss. When the kiss is broken (only because they need to breathe) Blaine slides his fingertips along the collar of Kurt’s henley. “You know, having to spend the night in the backseat of a car together is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to us.”

 

“Blaine!”

 

“What? Kurt, you know back seats make me horny.”

 

“Oh my god, you are ridiculous.”

 

“You don’t want me?” Blaine gazes up at Kurt, turning on the hurt-puppy look he knows Kurt can never say no to.

 

Kurt maneuvers and pushes Blaine down to lie along the leather bench seat. “I want you, always.”

 

+

 

The next morning they wake up early. It isn’t really because they need to get on the road; it has more to do with the fact that they can’t take another minute sharing the backseat of an SUV.

 

“Baby, your knee is on my crotch, and my face is in your armpit,” Blaine murmurs. “Please wake up.”

 

Kurt stirs, and when he realizes where he is, he shoots up to a sitting position atop Blaine’s thighs, and hits his head on the ceiling. “Ow. Fuck.”

 

“Oh, are you okay?” Blaine coos from his position beneath his husband.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine honey. Just my muscles feel like I’ve run a marathon. How are you feeling?”

 

“Well, considering I spent the night pressed down into the seat with the entirety of your weight on top of me, I’m okay,” Blaine teases.

 

“You weren’t complaining about being pressed down into the seat last night,” Kurt shoots back.

 

Blaine laughs. “Touché. And for the record, I will never complain about that!”

 

“No, complaining is my job,” Kurt rolls his eyes at himself.

 

“Sometimes your complaining is funny though, baby.”

 

“Oh really?” Kurt raises a brow.

 

“Yes. You should have seen your face when you saw the carpet in the motel.”

 

“It isn’t a motel, Blaine. It doesn’t even have vowels, and they can’t afford to buy any. It’s just M T L.”

 

After Blaine’s laugh attack is under control, Kurt kisses his nose and pulls him up. “Come on husband, let’s get decent, grab some breakfast, and hit the road.”

 

After stretching out their muscles, and doing the minimal and quickest morning routine in history via rear-view mirror (because neither one of them is going to use the motel room’s bathroom), they hit an IHOP for breakfast, get coffee to go, gas up the Nav, and get back on track.

 

Blaine is at the wheel this time, which allows Kurt to watch the Pennsylvania countryside – trees and fields that Kurt is glad he is looking at, as opposed to being in. As beautiful as the scenery is, Kurt can’t wait to get back to the concrete jungle of New York City. Yeah, it’s crowded and loud, and sometimes stinky, but it is home to Kurt, and he can’t think of a better place to start his married life with Blaine. Although they lived together this past summer in Lima, he and Blaine discussed their future, and they both agreed that they wanted to make a go of NYC together. Of course, if Blaine had wanted to move to Timbuktu, Kurt would have agreed – because anywhere Blaine is, is where Kurt belongs.

 

They travel in relative silence for a while until Blaine asks, “Penny for your thoughts?”

 

“Hmm, just thinking about New York. I can’t wait to get settled into our own place with no roommates and no couch surfers. The apartment will be yours and mine equally. We can decorate it how we want, and walk around naked if we want to without anyone or anything interfering.”

 

“Honestly, Kurt, that sounds like heaven.”

 

Their moment is interrupted by a short ding and a flashing light on the Navigator’s dashboard. Blaine leans forward to have a closer look at what the light is indicating, but the vehicle starts veering to the left - into traffic.

 

“Blaine,” Kurt screeches.

 

“It’s doing it on its own, Kurt.” Blaine says, as he forcefully steers them to the right and back to safety. “The tire light is on; we must be low on air.”

 

Kurt leans over to get a closer angle and sighs. “Great! One more thing to put us off schedule! Pull over honey, let me have a look.”

 

There is no rest area that Blaine can immediately see, so he steers to the right and pulls over onto a wider stretch of shoulder, which proves difficult because the car is veering left and slowing on its own. Once he is parked, Blaine flicks on the hazard lights and hops out, just as Kurt is rounding the front of the Nav toward the driver’s side.

 

“I would say we are more than a little low on air,” Kurt comments.

 

Blaine looks at the tire; it is completely flat. “We must’ve run over something. Let me call roadside assistance.”

 

“Roadside assistance? Blaine, I can change it!”

 

“It’s not a big deal, Kurt. This is why I have it – for emergencies like these.”

 

“We don’t have time to wait around for someone to come do something that I am perfectly capable of doing myself.”

 

“Kurt, we’re in the middle of nowhere in the summer heat. I pay a yearly fee to have this membership, let’s use it.”

 

“I can do it, Blaine,” Kurt says, stomping off to the back of the vehicle to retrieve the jack and spare tire.

 

“I know you can, Kurt,” Blaine follows, “but you don’t have to. There is no need to get your hands dirty – or your clothes for that matter.”

 

“Blaine, I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need my husband to rescue me from changing a tire. Have you forgotten who you’re married to? Who your father-in-law is?”

 

Blaine places his hands on his hips. “Oh, of course! You’re Kurt Hummel, jack of all trades, do-er of everything, capable of taking care of himself, and never needing any help – especially not from his husband who should just sit back and watch him save the day! Because he is so strong, and capable, and proud, and … a stubborn ass!”

 

+

 

Blaine knows he should have quit speaking, but if he is being honest with himself, this is one of the things that annoys him about Kurt. It is a problem, because as much as it bothers him, deep down, he knows it is something that Kurt has always needed in order to survive his teenage years. It is his automatic defense mechanism – he either puts walls up, or is quick to snap. Usually, it’s both. Blaine realizes that although he and Kurt have grown leaps and bounds, Kurt will never be able to let down his walls completely.

 

Blaine also knows that he can be single-minded in his desire to take care of Kurt. He is a people pleaser; it’s in his nature. He realizes that trait can be suffocating to Kurt.

 

“What did you say to me?” Kurt demands.

 

“You heard what I said,” Blaine murmurs. “I didn’t mean to say it the way I did, but I stand behind my words, Kurt. I am your husband. If you can’t bring down your walls around me, then what good am I?”

 

Kurt has two choices. He can lambaste Blaine for what he said, or he can step back from the situation a moment, and think about what is really happening. Their fight is absolutely not about a flat tire.

 

Even now, after everything that he’s been through, and after everything he’s learned about himself and relationships, it is hard for Kurt to let himself be taken care of. Logically, he knows that Blaine is so attentive, not because Blaine thinks he is weak, but because Blaine simply loves him. And as hard as it is, Kurt knows he has to let Blaine in. He is determined to not push Blaine away this time.

 

“You are plenty good, wonderfully good. And I’m sorry.” Kurt responds.

 

Blaine’s body relaxes as he lets out a sigh and makes his way over to where Kurt is standing. “I’m sorry, too. This road trip has been so weird. I don’t know what has gotten into us.”

 

“I think we are both nervous,” Kurt says, leaning his back against the vehicle. He reaches out his hand and draws Blaine in close.

 

“We’re nervous to take this step, and to go to a place where we failed each other twice before.” Blaine adds.

 

“Yes. But we are not going to fail, Blaine. I won’t let that happen.”

 

“I know. And neither am I. I’m sorry I went all alpha trying to protect you. I am fully aware that you can change a tire in your sleep and have been able to since you were ten years old, but I was just worried because you didn’t get the most restful sleep last night, it’s hot as hell out here, and honestly – I didn’t want you to ruin your clothes. I know how much they mean to you … and how much they cost.” Blaine says with a soft smirk. “And really, I guess I was just following my nature and trying to take care of you.”

 

“Oh honey. You really are the sweetest. I’m sorry for being stubborn. I’m still working on bringing my walls down. I’ve had them up all my life, but I know that I don’t need them around you – never around you. I should let you help me more. I should let you take care of me. Because I know how it feels to want to take care of the person you love.”

 

Blaine’s smile is blinding. He leans in to kiss Kurt softly and murmur against his lips. “Okay. Let’s change this tire. We’re going to do it together. You get the jack, and I’ll start loosening the lug nuts.”

 

“You know how to do that?”

 

“Kurt!”

 

Kurt’s laughter is music to Blaine’s ears.

 

+

 

After they change the tire and stop at a roadside gas station to clean up a bit, they continue their journey. They travel for a few hours before they stop again to get a quick bite to eat at a local burger joint where they share a chicken burger, onion rings, and a strawberry milkshake.

 

“I’m going to have to run the rest of the way to New York to get rid of all these calories,” Kurt complains.

 

Blaine rolls his eyes and stuffs a whole onion ring into his mouth.

 

“Clearly, you don’t have the same concern.” Kurt adds.

 

“Nope,” Blaine says, finishing off the last of the milkshake and leaning forward across the table. “I plan on burning off these calories with a different form of exercise. And it’s convenient that our new apartment will have to be christened. You know I’m a kill-two-birds-with-one-stone kind of guy.”

 

Kurt laughs. “Oh god. Please Blaine, stop talking about birds. I’m too tired to move all the boxes out of the back seat again.”

 

“Well, how much longer to New York?”

 

“Two hours or so.”

 

Blaine grins and turns his attention to their waitress, who is passing by with a plate of food. “Excuse me, could we get our check please? We need to get a move on.”

 

Shortly after they leave the burger place, Blaine takes advantage of the fact that Kurt driving and concentrating on the road, and takes out another letter. He reads aloud…

 

_“Dear Kurt;_

 

_“First of all, good luck at your Vogue interview next week. I know you will rock it, like you do everything. I believe in you, and I’m proud of you, baby._

 

_“Second of all, oh my god, Kurt, I have not been able to get that Skype session out of my head. I don’t know why we didn’t think to do that before, but I’m so glad we figured it out. You were so hot, baby. Thinking about it now has me hard and aching for you. I miss you so much, and if I can’t have you here in the flesh … the gloriously naked flesh, then I, at least, want to see you in the flesh on my computer screen. Watching you jerk off, and knowing that it was just for me and because of me, is what dreams are made of, and trust me Kurt, I dream about it often. And then when you took command and asked me to strip, I almost died. There is something about you taking control that makes my blood hot, and my heart beat faster. What a wonderful surprise you gave me – although I think you’ve spoiled me, because now I want more sexy Skype dates. I need more of you and more often. You drive me wild; you make my cock so hard…”_

 

“Blaine, Blaine, stop. Fuck,” Kurt whines and presses the heel of his hand into his crotch.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blaine laughs. “I’ll stop.”

 

“You’re not sorry.”

 

“Okay, I’m not sorry. But trust me, I empathize with you, baby.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Kurt tries his hardest not to grin.

 

“Want me to drive for a while?” Blaine asks.

 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to stop to switch. It looks like it’s going to storm, and I just want to get to New York as fast as we can.” Kurt says, looking out the window and into the sky. The clouds are dark and billowy.

 

“Thunder clouds.” Blaine muses. “Those came out of nowhere.”

 

Before Blaine finishes his sentence, the sky opens up and unleashes abundant and forceful rain.

 

“That happened fast. Didn’t see it coming,” Kurt comments as he turns on his wipers to the fastest speed possible. “I really have to find a better weather app.”

 

“Just be careful, baby. I know we want to get there as soon as possible, but this doesn’t look like it’s going to pass over quickly.”

 

Blaine is right. The clouds are even darker now, and they cast a shadow over the highway as the rain pelts the Navigator hard.

 

“It’s raining too hard for the wipers; I can’t see anything.” Kurt says.

 

“Me either. Why don’t you pull over?”

 

“That’s dangerous, too. The shoulder is narrow. It’s raining too hard; passing cars may not see us, even with our hazards on. What if we get sideswiped?”

 

“Let’s keep going then, but go slow and pull over as soon as you see a rest stop.”

 

Kurt decelerates and leans forward in his seat so that he can see the road better. Blaine’s hand rests gently on his thigh, wanting to keep contact between the two of them, but not in any way trying to distract Kurt.

 

The rain intensifies, and when it gets to the point that they can’t even see past the Navigator’s hood, Kurt has no choice but to pull over. He parks as far into the shoulder as he can, and turns on the hazards.

 

Blaine notices that Kurt is taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. This could very well be the last straw to break the camel’s back, so to speak. What Kurt says next surprised him, though.

 

“This road trip has been one crazy thing after another. I’ve hated it, actually. It’s been the cause of some pretty intense feelings and of hurtful words to erupt out of the both of us. We’ve been frustrated, angry, and fighting. All I want to do is get to New York so that we can start our lives.”

 

“Me too,” Blaine agrees.

 

“But Blaine…”

 

Blaine tries to prepare himself for what Kurt will say. The rain is drumming hard against the roof of the Navigator and onto the road around them. Blaine can’t help but think back to that fateful evening when he was late meeting Kurt, and Kurt had snapped and dropped the bomb on him. It had been raining that night, too.

 

_Do you even want to marry me? Maybe I don’t!_

 

Blaine takes in a sharp breath. They are already married, but maybe Kurt is having second thoughts. Maybe this trip is the last thing Kurt needed to finally realize that he doesn’t want Blaine in his life after all. Maybe this is it. Their third attempt at New York may be a bust. Their young marriage may be a failure.

 

“…I now realize…” Kurt continues.

 

 _Oh god. Oh no. No, no, no, no…_ Blaine’s stomach churns as he tries to brace himself.

 

“…that the journey is just as important as the destination. Being on this road trip with you has been difficult, yes. It has pushed us into some pretty passionate arguments and fights, yes. But Blaine, I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. So far this move has caused us a lot of frustration, but it’s also made us closer. It has forced us to communicate, and has made us realize that what we said in our vows is very relevant. We are a work in progress, and we are both committed and prepared to put in that work.”

 

A few tears slip down Blaine’s cheeks, mimicking the raindrops that slide down the Navigator’s windows. “Kurt…”

 

“This storm could have been another thing to cause me to stress out and pick a fight with you, but instead I choose to see the beauty in it. Look outside, Blaine.”

 

Blaine tries to blink away tears, but it’s no use; they just kept coming, causing his vision to blur. He looks out the window past Kurt’s shoulder, anyway. Outside it is dark and wet, but he realizes that he can see beauty in that. They are together, and safe. When Blaine takes Kurt’s hand, he notices that the sounds and scents of the cool rain pounding the hot earth aren’t dark or stressful or frustrating. They are refreshing, beautiful, and even romantic … because he is witnessing it with his husband.

 

“I love you.” Blaine cries.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else, either.” Blaine admits. “And you’re right. We could focus on everything bad that has happened, but there have been so many good things, too.”

 

“Life isn’t perfect, honey. We are not perfect. But we love each other, and that is all that really matters.”

 

Blaine hurls himself over the center console and into Kurt’s embrace, pressing wet kisses to his cheeks, and eventually his mouth. Somehow (and steering wheel be damned) Blaine manages to push the seat back and maneuver himself into Kurt’s lap.

 

On the side of the road, and in the pouring rain, veiled by the dark of night, a black 2015 Navigator with fogged up windows begins to rock.

 

+

 

The storm lets up far before Kurt and Blaine are finished with each other in the front seat of the Nav. After they giggle their way through cleaning up, and Blaine soothes Kurt’s mortified worries of, “it smells like sex in here, Blaine. We need to air it out before we return it to the rental company,” they continue driving and finally make it to New York just after dinner time.

 

As Kurt opens up the door to their new apartment, with Blaine behind him wheeling two suitcases, Kurt finally feels like he can breathe. It is theirs - their own space, their little sanctuary in the heart of Greenwich Village, just like they have been planning since high school.

 

They work quickly to get all their belongings into their apartment. They just want it to be done. It has been a long trip made longer by one mishap after another. When all the unloading is done, Kurt and Blaine take care of the most important things first – calling their parents, unpacking their clothes, and setting up the air mattress. Their larger furniture, including their bed, isn’t scheduled to be delivered until tomorrow, so the mattress will have to do for now.

 

“It’ll be romantic,” Blaine says. “As if we’re camping.”

 

“But without the bugs and wild animals,” Kurt adds.

 

Once they have the bare minimums out of boxes and set up, Blaine orders them take-out while Kurt hangs up both their wardrobes in the closet. When the food arrives, they sit on the floor, leaning back against the wall eating out of their cartons with chopsticks, and sharing Perrier. A soft lamp lights up their small living room, and gentle baroque plays from Blaine’s phone.

 

When they were finished, Kurt cleans up while Blaine takes his turn in the shower first.

 

Kurt makes quick work of cleaning up, and is glad that Blaine has decided to take a long shower. It gives Kurt the opportunity to join his husband in the bathroom. It has been a long two days of traveling, and it has been emotionally charged to say the least. And even though they made great use of the front and back seats of the Navigator, there is still some residual sexual tension that needs to be taken care of. Thanks to Blaine and his letters, Kurt is pretty set on making the most out of a naked and soapy husband.

 

Kurt undresses quickly and sets his wedding band down on the counter beside Blaine’s. He peeks around the shower curtain. “Is there room in there for me?”

 

“Mmm,” Blaine moans at the prospect of having his husband join him. “There’s always room for you – wherever I am, baby. The water is hot and the pressure is perfect. Come here.”

 

Blaine takes his hand, and Kurt gingerly steps into the shower. They enjoy the hot spray for a while, with Kurt’s arms draped around Blaine’s warm shoulders while they kiss. They take their time washing each other. Kurt’s fingers work their magic into Blaine’s sudsy curls, before helping him rinse. Blaine returns the favour in a much more playful way, sculpting Kurt’s soapy hair into a Mohawk.

 

“You are the only person on earth who can get away with molesting my hair like this,” Kurt laughs.

 

“I’d like to think I’m the only person on earth who can even touch your hair at all.”

 

“Yes, well, that’s true.”

 

“And I know I’m the only person on earth who gets to do this…” Blaine’s voice drops low as he moves in to lap water droplets off Kurt’s clavicle.

 

The sinful noise that comes out of Kurt’s mouth urges Blaine to press him back against the tiles and have his way with him. His mouth latches on to the sweet spot beneath Kurt’s jawbone, his fingers smears water droplets along Kurt’s broad shoulders, his chest presses hard into Kurt’s, and his lengthening cock nestles into the groove of Kurt’s thigh.

 

“Blaine,” Kurt moans. “You feel so good.”

 

“I want you so much,” Blaine babbles as he kisses a trail along Kurt’s jaw to his lips, claiming them in a kiss.

 

Kurt’s hands slide down Blaine’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing every time Blaine plunders deeper into his mouth with his tongue. Kurt breaks the kiss and whispers his pleas along Blaine’s lips, like a prayer. “I want you, too … Please … Blaine, I’m aching for you … oh, please … suck me.”

 

Blaine bites at Kurt’s lower lip with a grunt when he hears him pleading to be sucked. “Fuck. Yes,” he growls and chases a trail of water, kissing and lapping downward along Kurt’s chest and stomach, as he sinks to his knees.

 

Kurt’s gaze follows Blaine down. “Oh god. Blaine, you look so good down there.”

 

When Blaine peers up through wet lashes, he notices that Kurt is already panting. His eyes are dark and hooded, while his shoulders are pressed back into the tiles, and his hips are pushed forward, offering … pleading silently for Blaine to take him.

 

“I think,” Blaine teases, a finger trailing down Kurt’s happy trail. “That my view is a little bit better than yours, baby.”

 

When Blaine feels fingers slide and take residence along his scalp, he leans in, pressing his face to Kurt’s thick and leaking cock. “Yes, this view,” Blaine kisses up along Kurt’s shaft, “is very, very nice indeed.”

 

Kurt whines and keens when he feels Blaine’s mouth engulf him. In one fell swoop, Blaine is on him, his mouth already taking in half of his cock. The suckling sounds only make Kurt’s lust spike and grow more desperate. “Yes, fuck, Blaine … sw-swallow my cock.”

 

With a loud popping sound, Blaine releases Kurt’s cock just long enough to growl out, “I love it when you talk dirty, baby.” And within seconds he is back on again, taking Kurt’s cock deeper into his mouth, while his hands generously caress the backs of Kurt’s thighs.

 

“Mmm,” Kurt moans as he looks down at the sight of his husband on his knees and stuffed full of cock. “You’re gorgeous like that.” Both of Kurt’s hands grip at Blaine’s curls and gently guide him, tilting his head so that the perfect angle can be reached. “Yes, take it all honey. I know you can.”

 

Blaine does take it all. With his eyes shut tight, and his nose working to draw in air, Blaine presses forward until his lips hit Kurt’s pelvic bone, his chin nestles between Kurt’s balls, and his throat cradles the engorged head of Kurt’s cock.

 

“Oh, fucking hell. Bl-Blaine. Yes.” Kurt desperately needs to push in further. He doesn’t want to hurt Blaine, though, so he just grips his curls tighter, and holds on for dear life as the tip of his cock twitches and pulses inside Blaine’s throat.

 

When the need for oxygen outgrows Blaine’s desire to swallow his husband’s cock whole, Blaine finally draws back with a rough gasp. “Mmm, baby, you taste so good, and your cock is so heavy inside my throat.” Blaine pants hot along Kurt’s wet shaft and his tongue laps messily along the base of his cock, teasing at Kurt’s balls.

 

Kurt is panting too, and he is grateful that the wall is there to hold him up, because the sights and sounds, and exquisite sensation of Blaine’s ministrations are already getting to be too much. The warmth of the shower and the pressure of the spraying water only add to the ambiance, and to his arousal. “I want to come down your throat,” Kurt gasps, suddenly.

 

“Fuck.” Blaine is back on Kurt’s cock in an instant. This time, his head bobs to and fro and his fist strokes, pumping his own cock in time to the blowjob he’s administering.

 

“Yes, just like that,” Kurt whines. “I want to feed you.”

 

Blaine’s grunts are muffled, but Kurt can hear the desperation in Blaine’s voice. Kurt knows Blaine loves this – being on his knees, being filled and fed.

 

Kurt can’t help but buck his hips, fucking into Blaine’s hot working mouth. “Oh god, Blaine, I’m getting close. So close, honey.” His fingers splay on either side of Blaine’s face, cradling his cheeks, tilting his head up, angling just so he can get deeper and fill Blaine’s throat completely. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!”

 

Blaine’s hand abandons his own cock so that he can slide it up the back of Kurt’s thigh and grip his ass desperately.

 

When Kurt feels the squeeze, he lets go with a grunt, forcefully spilling his seed down Blaine’s throat and into his belly. Kurt’s whines echo off the shower walls, and are only outdone by Blaine’s muffled, gurgling grunts.

 

It takes a little while for both of them to come down from their highs – Blaine longer than Kurt since he still hasn’t orgasmed. But Blaine is fine to take his time, loving the feeling of being aroused for Kurt, knowing that eventually Kurt will take care of him. Blaine finishes rinsing Kurt’s hair and washing his body with a loofah, pressing kisses to the sex-warmed skin before trailing over them with the soapy sponge.

 

When Kurt is clean and rinsed, he dabs some of Blaine’s body wash onto the loofah and gives Blaine his turn. Kurt takes his time, tasting every inch of Blaine’s shoulders, back, chest, and arms before sinking down to his knees to wash his legs.

 

“Someone is excited by my skilled hands, I think,” Kurt teases and presses a sweet kiss to the very tip of Blaine’s hard and bobbing cock.

 

Blaine laughs out a moan. “Someone hasn’t come yet, and has been expertly teased for the past half hour by his husband’s beautiful long fingers and exquisite lips.”

 

“I have not teased at all,” Kurt says playfully. “I’ve merely been washing you, and getting you clean.”

 

“Mmm, and you’re so good at that – at taking care of me.”

 

Kurt smiles at him from his position on his knees, and places the loofah to the side. In a surprise motion, he stands up and crowds Blaine back into the wall. “I promised to take care of you forever. And I know we had a trying couple of days, but we came out of it better men and better husbands because of it. I love you, Blaine.”

 

Blaine captures Kurt’s lips in a passionate kiss, his hands roaming along Kurt’s wet skin. The touch ignites Kurt’s passion and he breathes hot against Blaine’s mouth. “Turn over. I’m going to fuck you now.”

 

“Oh god,” Blaine whines and turns quickly, pressing his body into the tiles and presenting his ass for the taking. He whimpers when he feels the warmth of Kurt’s body leave his, but he is soon rewarded by Kurt’s hot mouth suddenly lapping at his entrance.

 

“Fuck baby...” Blaine yells out in passion, as well as in surprise. His hips undulate, and he presses back urgently against Kurt’s mouth, grinding.

 

Kurt can only grunt as he pushes his face deeper between Blaine’s cheeks. His tongue slides easily and swiftly along the pucker, the tip teasing Blaine open slowly. “So good,” he murmurs against soft skin, as his hands caress Blaine’s ankles, calves, and thighs.

 

“Please, I could come just like this baby,” Blaine pleads, his hand sliding down to stroke at his cock.

 

“You could,” Kurt says, “but then you would miss out on the fucking I’m about to give you.”

 

“Kurt! Please!”

 

Kurt presses his tongue deep into Blaine’s ass once more, before getting up to reach out past the shower curtain and into his toiletry kit, retrieving the lube. Blaine doesn’t need a lot of preparation, but Kurt likes to make it pleasant and safe for him. Besides, Kurt knows that Blaine loves to be teased.

 

Once Kurt lubes up his fingers, he pins Blaine to the wall by positioning himself so that his chest is against Blaine’s back. He slides his hand down, and soon, his firm-fisted grip is holding Blaine’s erection. As he presses his fingers against Blaine’s wet pucker, Kurt trails kisses along Blaine’s neck and works his way up to his jawbone.

 

Blaine’s neck strains back, as he tries to turn his head to capture Kurt’s lips, but it’s no use. Kurt won’t let him reach, and the feeling of Kurt’s fingers on his ass is more than enough to make him lose focus. Blaine whines loud and long as Kurt opens him up with two fingers.

 

“You’re beautiful like this,” Kurt whispers. “I love you needy and whining for me.”

 

“Kurt, please,” Blaine begs, needing more.

 

Kurt adds a third finger, and soon he has Blaine fucking back onto his hand, and thrusting forward into his grip. Blaine rocks himself back and forth, and Kurt lets him, holding his fingers stiff so that Blaine can ride them, and keeping his fist tight and slick so that Blaine can slide through it.

 

“I… I… fuck… please,” Blaine stutters.

 

“You like that, don’t you, honey? It feels good, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yessss… god… Kurt…”

 

“Want more?”

 

Blaine growls loudly. “Yes.”

 

“Mmm, me too,” Kurt murmurs and nips at his earlobe.

 

Suddenly, Kurt’s fingers and fist are gone, and Blaine whines out, desperately. “Baby…”

 

“I’m right here,” Kurt says and presses his plump tip to Blaine’s hole, filling him slowly and deeply.

 

“Oh god, yes,” Blaine breathes through the sweet intrusion, knowing that in a couple of seconds the ache will shift from feeling good to fuck-yes. His hands press to the wall looking for some sort of leverage, because he knows that any minute, Kurt will start pounding into him.

 

“You are so tight, Blaine. I love you. I love you so much,” Kurt stutters. “And I’m going to fuck you so very hard, honey.”

 

“Please…”

 

“You drove me crazy reading me those letters, and now you’re going to pay the price.”

 

Kurt doesn’t wait for Blaine’s response. As soon as his hands slide down to grasp Blaine’s hips, he starts pumping. His hip bones slap into Blaine’s plush ass cheeks with every thrust. The sight of his pale hands gripping Blaine’s beautiful olive-toned hips only drives his desire to grow hotter and more passionate.

 

“I love you,” Kurt pants as he slams into his husband hard and deep, but achingly slow.

 

“Lov…love you too,” Blaine grunts.

 

Kurt fucks him from behind, and once again grips his cock from the front. The rocking motion drives Blaine to cry out, babbling incoherently. This only spurs Kurt on to thrust faster, quickening the rhythm of his driving hips, and his stroking fist.

 

Blaine comes first, his orgasm shooting out of him like a geyser, high up into the air and splattering on the shower wall. When he comes, Kurt doesn’t let up. He continues to pump Blaine’s orgasm out of him until he is yelping with the sensation of over-stimulation, and dribbling globs of come onto Kurt’s fist.

 

Kurt comes with a burst, clamping down on Blaine’s shoulder with his mouth, biting, but not breaking the skin. His moans are loud and muffled against Blaine’s reddening flesh, as he empties into him in spurts.

 

“Wow,” Blaine breathes a few long minutes later. “I’m going to read you those letters more often.”

 

Kurt snorts out indignantly and swats his husband’s backside. “You’re insatiable.”

 

“For you, yes.”

 

“Hmm,” Kurt hums sweetly and turns Blaine around so that he can drape his arms around his shoulders and kiss him lovingly. “The feeling is mutual, honey.”

 

Suddenly, Blaine feels boneless and exhausted. He can tell from the sleepy gaze of his husband’s eyes, that he is exhausted, too. “Come on,” Blaine says. “Let’s rinse off and test out our air mattress.”

 

Once they are dry, they settle down together on their mattress completely drained from the events of the past three days. Their furniture isn’t there yet, they don’t have groceries in their fridge, and they have a couple days of heavy duty unpacking and setting up ahead of them. But they are sated. They are happy. They are united. They are married. They are works in progress. And they have their entire lives ahead of them – which they will take one day at a time, and most importantly, together.

 

As their minds quiet, and the moon rises high into the sky, they shift closer to each other. Blaine nuzzles into Kurt’s chest, and Kurt holds Blaine in his arms as they are lulled to sleep by the sounds and symphony of New York City – a new home.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: A road trip back to NYC after they are married where everything goes wrong (a flat tire, a seedy motel where the blankets smell musky and the toilets don't work, etc) and how they work through it as a married couple. The road trip where everything goes wrong … they learn how to work together. Angst, but they are very committed to making it work this time.
> 
> Alternate Summary: Road trips suck the love from your life.   
> Credit goes to AJ! LOL
> 
> Comments are like love.


End file.
